Monument Rock (Ss) (1998) (4 page)

She glared at him. "Let me up!" she demanded. "Turn my hands loose!"

"It's up to you. Be good and you get a ride to wherever you're goin'. Keep on fussin'
a
n' I'll leave you right here to cook."

She stopped, still angry, but aware that he meant what he said. "All right," sh
e
said, "but you just wait!"

This time he took her on the saddle in front of him and that made it necessary fo
r
his arm to be around her waist, which was, he realized appreciatively, a small, firm
,
and very nice waist. Her reddish hair came against his cheek and her body presse
d
closely to him. This, too, he found agreeable.

She said nothing, but sat quietly. Finally, he asked, "Where do you want to go? Where'
s
home?"

"I want to go to Burnt Camp, in the Solitario."

Now, the Cactus Kid, whose birth certificate might have said he was Nesselrode Clay
,
knew but little of the Big Bend of Texas. What he did know was that Burnt Camp i
n
the Solitario was no place for a beautiful girl of eighteen or so. In fact, it wa
s
to just that place that the Kid himself was going, but for no friendly purpose. "That'
s
no place for a girl," he said. "I'll take you to another place."

"You'll take me there, and when they find me with m
y
hands tied, it will be a sad time for you! Just wait until I tell Kit Branch abou
t
this!"

"He your sweetheart?" The Kid wanted to know.

"Branch?" she scoffed. "He'd like to be, but he's not! I'm Kirby Brock!"

"Bully Brock's daughter?" The Kid was aghast. "Don't tell me that old blister sire
d
a sweet little filly like you!"

"He's my uncle! And he's not an old blister! Although I'll tell him you said tha
t
and he'll wipe the floor with you, that's what he'll do!"

The Cactus Kid chuckled. He felt good this morning. He wore his tailored gray trousers
,
a bright red shirt, and a black handkerchief tight about his throat. His hat wa
s
black with a snake-hide band, and his boots hand-tooled. The Kid was five feet nin
e
and weighed exactly one hundred and fifty pounds soaking wet. He consulted a larg
e
railroad watch that he kept in the pocket of his pants; it was ten forty-five i
n
the morning.

Black Ridge was north of them now and they cut the trail leading to the Black Tinaja.

Although the Cactus Kid had never visited the wild and lonely region called the Solitario
,
he knew well the route that led to it. Leaving the tinaja, they would turn due wes
t
and hit the canyon of the Left-hand Shutup, which would take them right into th
e
region.

As they rode he puzzled over the situation. What had Kirby Brock been doing out i
n
the desert without a horse? And how could such a girl be the niece of Bully Brock?

For years now Bully had ranched in the wild region around the canyon west of Burn
t
Camp. It was an area frequented by smugglers from over the border and by rustlers.

And that was why he was coming here now. He was looking for some men.

Several days before, in San Antonio, he had left the Variety Theatre one night, and had seen a man behind him. Later he had seen the sam
e
man, and knew he was being followed. And then there had been three men.

He had turned the corner near his hotel when they closed in on him, one coming towar
d
him, one crossing the street, and the third had come from nowhere to grab his arms.

He had been slugged, robbed, and left lying in the street.

After he recovered he devoted two days to making inquiries, only to discover finall
y
that the men had left town. The three were known as Farbeson, Breeden, and Jewell.

They were known thieves and rustlers, and they ran with
IG
Branch.

At Del Rio, he heard about Branch and that he could be found in the Solitario, bu
t
that a man would be some kind of a fool to try to go in after him. The Cactus Ki
d
was that kind of a fool. They had slugged him, which was bad enough, but they ha
d
taken seven hundred dollars from him. It was more money than he had ever had al
l
at one time.

"How's it happen you're afoot?" he asked suddenly.

"My horse threw me," she replied sullenly.

At the Black Tinaja they stopped, watered the horse, and drank. The dun was feelin
g
the double burden, so the Kid put him on some grass and sat down in the shade. H
e
glanced at Kirby and smiled. "Might as well sit down," he said. "We'll have to le
t
that horse rest a mite."

She was looking at the ground nearby. Glancing over curiously, he saw she was intentl
y
studying some tracks. Suddenly she looked around at him. "Let me use that gun. I
c
an get some horses for us." She spoke in a near whisper and appeared to tense.

"Nothing doing. You'd run off and leave me high and dry." He had untied her hands.

"Suit yourself," she said.

"So, Kit's bad medicine, is he? What about Jewell?"

She stiffened with surprise. "What do you know about him?"

"Not much. Not any more than I know about Breeden or Farbeson."

A slight sound made him turn, but there was no chance to draw. The man holding th
e
shotgun was Jewell and he was no more than fifteen feet away. At that distance h
e
would tear the Kid apart. His eyes widened when he saw the Kid. "You, is it? I figure
d
you'd still be lyin' in the street. What you doin' here?"

"Huntin' you." The Kid spoke quietly. "Huntin' you an' those louse-bound partner
s
of yours. I want my money."

The man laughed coarsely. "You'll git something, but it ain't gonna be what you'r
e
lookin' for!" he promised. Then: "Where'd you mee
t
her?"

"Down the road a piece. Do you want to hand me over that money now or do I take i
t
out of your hide?"

"My hide?" Jewell stared. "Who's holdin' this shotgun, anyway?" He did not move hi
s
eyes, but said, "Pick up his guns, Kirby. Go behind him."

He felt the girl move up behind him and felt his guns leave his holsters. His eye
s
narrowed slightly as he saw the evident relief in Jewell's eyes. Slowly, the shotgu
n
lifted and he realized with a shock that the man was going to murder him.

"I wouldn't if I were you." Kirby Brock had the guns in her hands and was watchin
g
Jewell. "Bring up the horses and we'll ride in. Bully will want to see this gent."

Reluctantly, Jewell lowered the gun. When he led up the horses, the Cactus Kid wa
s
surprised to see that one of them was obviously the girl's horse. It carried a sid
e
saddle and the stirrup was just right for her. The Kid was ordered to mount and the
y
turned west.

It was late afternoon when they reached the houses and old stone corral at Burn
t
Camp. The smoke from several fires was rising, and the Kid saw a man come out an
d
shade his eyes at them. They rode on into the camp and the Kid watched the big ma
n
coming toward them. He was almost twice the size of the Kid, towering several inche
s
above six feet and weighing well over two hundred pounds. He had a thick black beard.

He looked at the Kid, then turned his eyes to the girl. The Cactus Kid frowned uncertainly
,
for the big man seemed almost frightened when he recognized her.

Other men came forward. Farbeson was one of them. He was almost as large as Bull
y
Brock and he grinned when he saw the Cactus Kid. Breeden, who was standing nearb
y
said, "What do you think, Farb? This kid came up here to git his money?"

The others all laughed and then the crowd parted for a slender, whiplash of a ma
n
with a narrow face and wide gash for a mouth. He came down the path and stood starin
g
at Kirby with a slight smile. "Didn't get far, did you?" he said. "I told you w
e
were meant for each other."

Breeden laughed and Farb joined in. The younger man made an inquiry about the Cactu
s
Kid and was told the story of what had happened both in San Antonio and here. H
e
listened, nodding slightly. "All right," he said, "we'll get this over with all a
t
once."

He turned on Brock. "Bully," he said, "you're through here. We're taking over you
r
ranch and all that goes with it. I"-he smiled unpleasantly-"will personally tak
e
over Kirby. We're going to show this country what w
e
can do."

Brock stared back at him. "You're a fool, Kit. The Rangers never bothered us her
e
because this was my place and they knew me. You know they can get in here an' the
y
will, sure as you start anything."

"The Rangers ain't comin' now that we got Kirby back. Sendin' her was a dumb idea
,
Bully. You tipped your hand an' now we won't be needin' you any longer." Kit Branc
h
turned his hand on a gun.

The Cactus Kid was still sitting his horse, as was Jewell. Now, suddenly, he slappe
d
the spurs into the dun, and as the startled animal leaped, the Kid grabbed the shotgu
n
from Jewell's hands as the dun lunged by. Straight into the center of the crowd h
e
went, low over the horse's neck. Behind him a shot rang out, then another. The du
n
faltered, stumbled, and then fell all sprawled out. The Kid hit the ground rollin
g
and came up with the shotgun at his shoulder. The first person he saw across th
e
sights was Breeden. He squeezed the trigger and saw the big outlaw take the ful
l
charge in the stomach. The man gave a grunt and sat down hard and rolled over t
o
his face.

The Kid lunged to his feet in a spatter of bullets and ran into the rocks. He mad
e
them, felt the tug at his shirt, and hit the ground sliding. Almost as soon as h
e
hit it, he was up and ducking into a thick stand of greasewood. He froze in place.

Behind him were shouts and yells, so he moved on quietly, circling toward the corral.

The men had fanned out and were working toward him. Studying the terrain, he fel
t
himself grow sick. No alternative awaited him. The basin was rockbound and to clim
b
that wall would mean that he would be picked off before he had gone a dozen steps.

Nor could he remain where he was, for they were moving in.

The shotgun was a single-barreled gun, a breechloader. And he had no more shells.

The outlaws searching for him were not fooling. Obviously, they had decided to organize
,
take over Brock's ranch and saloon as a hangout, and raid the country. Kirby Broc
k
seemed to have slipped away for help but then had lost her horse. She had probabl
y
taken him for another outlaw.

Still clutching the shotgun, the Kid rolled behind some rocks and wormed his wa
y
right back toward the stone corral and the houses. Several times he had to lie stil
l
to allow men to pass within a few feet of him. When he reached a nest of rocks t
o
one side of the corral, he peered out.

Three men remained in the yard with Brock and the girl. Bully Brock had blood runnin
g
down his face where he had been struck with a gun barrel, and his hands were tie
d
behind him. The girl's hands were also tied, and Kit Branch stood nearby, with Far
b
and Jewell. The body of Breeden was nowhere to be seen.